


The Haunting

by ModSoul



Series: Chance Meetings [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Carnival, Gen, Racist Language, Trickster Murder Mayhem, bloody Trickster shenanigans, meeting readers, prompt, transphobic language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:00:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26531035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModSoul/pseuds/ModSoul
Summary: When his team mates urged Jarod to come with them to the carnival, he just expected a cringy evening, but things got worse when they decided to go into the Haunted House ...Mature to be sure, not that graphic depictions.
Series: Chance Meetings [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1276772
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: FicFacer$ 2020





	The Haunting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VegasGranny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VegasGranny/gifts).



> This story was written for a prompt send in by VegasGranny.  
> Hope you enjoy it as much as we did!

Jarod was not sure if it had been the right decision to accompany his team mates to the carnival. So far it has been all fun and games, but they had also had a few beers and were starting to get rough around the edges. Whenever that happened, the jokes became less friendly and usually directed at him. He never knew if they even noticed how racist and inappropriate some of them were.  
“Come on, guys! Let’s go to the Haunted House!” Luke exclaimed, jumping excitedly and sloshing beer all over his sleeve.  
“Yeah, man!” Frank agreed, pushing Steve and Dillon forward. “Let’s do this!”  
“I don’t know. We’ve had a few beers, not sure they’ll let us in,” Jarod tried to argue.  
“Don’t be a chicken, Jarod!” Luke argued with a glean in his eyes that meant trouble.  
“I’m not,” Jarod tried to defend, but in vain as they started clucking and boking to mock him. “Fine!” He reluctantly agreed, letting them drag him.

Without concern Luke threw his empty beer can to the side, joined by Frank’s. Steve gulped his last drops before doing the same. Dillon let out a disgusting belch that had all of them laughing like lunatics. Jarod never understood the appeal of this kind of display, which also was another source for the mockery he had to endure. Leaning against the low counter Luke talked to the cashier in what could only be described as a slur. “Five ticketsh for my friends and I.”  
“Coming right up,” the man replied with a flourish that seemed far to jolly for the stench of breath he must be exposed to. Without actually handing out the tickets, he stepped out of the booth to round them up.  
He was shorter than all of them, which earned a snicker from Steve, but that did not seem to deter him.  
“Okay, corporate makes me do this little speech, so listen up,” he clapped his hands and all attention was on him. “You go in there at your own risk. Everything you experience is made to scare you, if it does not work, please do not let your displeasure out on members of the staff or the decorations. The same applies, if it does in fact scare you enough to lash out. If you have a heart condition, suffer from easily triggered anxieties or phobias and or are pregnant, we recommend you to not take part in this tour.”  
“Pregnant? Dude, men don’t get pregnant!” Frank intelligently supplied.  
“Oh, you’d be surprised. I’ve met a few men who went through the whole giving birth schtick.”  
The reply was met with laughter and jokes that made Jarod cringe, the cashier did not even blink an eye.  
“Well, if you’re quite done then: Who’s up for some spoooky fun?!” He declared, jazz hands and all.  
“Hell, yeah!” Luke exclaimed, pushing his fist into the air. His howl was followed by the others.  
Jarod just really hoped they would not cause too much trouble.

The cashier opened the double doors into the haunted house and let them all pass through while nibbling on a candy bar. The room was illuminated by the light falling through the doors, but not for long. Without a warning they stood in complete darkness. Luke used it to jump on Dillons back, making him squeal in fright.  
“Man, you’re such a pussy!” His laughter echoed through the room, followed by his own outcry. “Hey, who grabbed my butt?”  
No one answered him and he resorted to slurs and curses that made Jarod cringe even more.  
Finally the lights were turned on again, not much, but at least they could see each other in the glow of the blue lights running around the room like veins. A look around told Jarod that they all stood too far away from each other for any one of them to touch Luke. Briefly he wondered who had actually done it, but a loud clap startled him from his thoughts.  
The cashier, who apparently also was their guide, pushed his way between Frank and Steve to stand before them.  
“Gentlemen, welcome! In this Haunted House, you will face challenges,” he gave a dramatic pause, the light only partially showing his features. “But not all of you will succeed.”  
Luke and Frank laughed at that, but Steve and Dillon exchanged a worried look. Jarod felt like the latter pair. Something about all of this seemed … off. He just could not quite put his finger on why.  
“The first challenge is a challenge of bravery! To continue one of you will have to make a sacrifice.” His ominous voice carried through the room and sent a shiver down Jarod’s spine.  
“All right? What do we gotta do?” Luke asked, putting his hands at his hips.  
With a grin that could not be described as innocent and fell more into the category of sinister, the guide made a step to the side. Behind him a line of blue light shone down onto the sculpture of a wolf’s head that was about the size of the guide’s torso. Jarod could make out a large snout with sharp teeth and two round dark orbs for eyes.  
“As you can see,” the guide continued, not even looking at them and instead unwrapping a piece of gum, “one of you needs to sacrifice their hand, by putting it in here.”  
“Uuuh, scary.” Luke laughed and stepped beside Jarod. Dread filled him in anticipation of what was to come. “You know how in horror movies the black guy always dies first? Well, good thing we brought our very own guinea pig.” With a last pat on his back, Luke shoved him forward.

Stumbling Jarod came to stand without crashing into either the sculpture or the guide. He eyed the sculpture skeptically and gulped. Something in his gut was telling him to run, to not do what he was asked. The other guys were egging him on, calling him a chicken and other things.  
“Dude, it’s just a statue!” Luke groaned, annoyance clear in his voice.  
Jarod looked towards the guide, trying to determine, whether or not this would be anything harmful. The guide gave him a smirk and an encouraging nod. Maybe it really was just nerves playing tricks on his mind. Taking one last deep breath, he put his hand into the gaping maw.  
“Well, look at that. Seems like your sacrifice was not deemed worthy,” the guide declared, patting Jarod’s shoulder lightly to guide him to the side.  
“That’s ridiculous,” Frank complained.  
Without much consideration he pushed Steve forward, who made a show of briefly putting his hand inside, to pull it out at the last second. For a moment Jarod would have sworn that the eyes of the sculpture flickered just as bright as the lights.  
“Please, do not mock the creature,” the guide warned, “you will not like the results.”  
With a last wave of his hand, he pushed it inside. His wrist had barely crossed the line of teeth when the mouth closed shut. A blood curdling scream came from Steve. The other’s just laughed at his antics. But Jarod had seen what really happened. He took a step back, his heart pumping in his chest. The blood dripping from the stump had the popcorn they had had earlier decide to see the light of day again.  
“What the fuck, man?!” The others said as they also recognized the severity of the situation.  
“Call an ambulance!”  
The voices came out as a garbled mess. Steve fell to his knees, holding what was left of his arm,wept and wheezed in pain.  
“Oh, we can’t go back, those doors only open one way.” The guide told them. His tone far too jovial for the circumstances. “The only way is forward.”  
“Then hurry the fuck up and get out of here, so you can open the door and we can get out!” Frank demanded.  
“You want to stay behind?” The guide asked as if they had all the time in the world.  
“Are you deaf and stupid?” Luke now accused.  
Breathing heavily, Jarod tried to keep calm. He was leaning against the wall. Only for it to give way behind him and send him to flat on his butt.  
“If it is truly your wish to stay behind, by all means do so. We’ve never had people stay behind in the dark,” he offered, before turning around to give Jarod a hand. “This is after all a Haunted House,” he added darkly and Jarod nearly fell down again, at the look in his eyes.  
“I’m fucking staying here and you better hurry the fuck up!” Frank declared unfazed, tying the sleeve of Steve’s shirt around the wound.  
“Well, if that is your wish,” he repeated, waving for the rest to follow. “Do mind your step, the ground is a bit slippery.”  
After everyone except the other two had crossed through the door he turned to them and ominously said: “You have been warned.”

Then he closed the doors. Everything went quiet and dark again. Jarod held his breath, just waiting for what was to come. And there it was. More screams, something crashing into what he suspected was the wall. Then came the silence and the blue light flickered on.  
“That was fun,” the guide declared, clapping his hands.  
It seemed to have broken the spell, Luke ran back to the door, frantically searching for a handle and slammed against it with all his strength. But, it did not budge.  
“Told you, this was one way.” The guide just shrugged, unwrapping another candy bar.  
“Let’s get this over with, you sick bastard!”  
He only acknowledged the insult with a nod and waved towards a table underneath a neon light. On it stood three vials, their round bellies filled with glistening liquid.  
“Have you ever heard of the term liquid courage? Well, one of these three vials contains it, the others … not so much,” he explained.  
“You pick one and drink!” Luke again pushed Jarod forward.  
“Oh, how about each of you takes one and drink them.” It was clear that this was not a suggestion.  
“Fuck,” Luke said again, randomly picking two vials to shove them into Dillon’s and Jarod’s hands.  
“Bottoms up,” he declared before downing it, Dillon doing the same.  
Jarod hesitated. Why were they so willing to follow the order without questioning it? Before he could even think about asking them, they started convulsing and frothing at the mouths, before collapsing into heaps on the floor. Instantly, a door opened behind the table. Bright sunshine falling into the room.

“Look at that! You’re the only one who made it!” The guide declared, patting Jarod on the back, making him drop the last vial.  
The shattering of the glass broke him out of whatever trance he had been in, staring at the object in front of him.  
“Have a chocolate bar,” the guide offered a surprisingly warm smile on his face.  
As if the final puzzle piece had clicked Jarod took a step away from him.  
“Yo-you’re a trickster!” He blurred out, obscure memories of a book he had read ages ago resurfacing.  
“Ooooh, don’t believe everything that’s written in those stupid books,” he waved his hand.  
Jarod stared at him. Did he just read his mind? No, that was impossible. Wasn’t it?  
“You do realize that you can just leave, right?” He waved the chocolate bar towards the exit.  
It took a moment for the words to register in Jarod’s brain, but when they did he ran out as fast as he could. A playful “Ciao!” called after his retreating form.


End file.
